


The Morning After

by SpecialHell



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Induced Amnesia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Disabled Character, Fluff, M/M, One Night Stands, kind of meet-cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 12:08:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18964930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpecialHell/pseuds/SpecialHell
Summary: Bucky wakes up in someone else's bed.





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first SamBucky and honestly I just needed to get some cutesy nonsense into my life.

Bucky scrunched his eyes closed against the invading light. He must have forgotten to close the curtains before passing out. A tilt of his head confirmed the stirrings of a hangover.

God; how much did he drink last night?

A stirring next to him caught Bucky’s attention. Had Natasha crashed here? He rolled over onto his side to avoid moving his already aching head, and opened his eyes. The occupant of his bed was certainly not a Russian redhead. The head resting on the pillow beside Bucky was male, African-American, and entirely unconscious. Bucky couldn’t make out his features from where his face was pressed into…

Those weren’t Bucky’s pillows.

Bucky winced as he forced his eyes to move around the room. The room which was not his bedroom. He rolled over in the bed that was not his own, and found his phone resting on the nightstand. At least he’d had the sense to put that somewhere safe. He opened the phone and squinted at the list of missed calls and text messages.

Shit. What happened last night?

Bucky flicked through the notifications. He quickly dismissed the alarms and reminders that were set for his medication and appointments. Clearly he wasn’t going to be taking his pills on time, and if all the messages were anything to go by, he’d already missed brunch. Clearing off the missed calls - Natasha never left voicemail - Bucky moved on to the text messages.

 

 **Nat:** _Hey, where’d you go?  
_                                         ~ 20:47

* * *

 

 **Nat:** _This place is crowded, I’m leaving. Meet me at that taco stand.  
_                                                                                                         ~ 20:59

* * *

 **Nat:** _Did you hook up? Doorman said you left with some guy.  
_                                                                                                ~21:35

* * *

 **Nat:** _You better be getting laid.  
_                                                   ~ 22:18

* * *

 **Nat:** _I’m going to bed. Call me tomorrow, you big idiot.  
_                                                                                       ~ 23:58

* * *

 ** _Missed Video Chat from ‘Nat’  
_**                                                ~ 09:23

* * *

 **Nat:** _You better be dead.  
_                                        ~ 09:30

 

Bucky stifled a chuckle as he juggled his phone into the right position to reply. God only knew where his prosthetic left arm was.

 

 **Bucky:** _Sorry!!!!! I woke up in some guy’s bed and I don’t know who or where or what! How much did I drink last night?_

 

Bucky made sure his phone volume was low while he waited for a response. No use waking up his… hook-up?

 

 **Nat:** _You got into a drinking game with some college kids._  

 **Bucky:** _Fuck._

 **Nat:** _Is he hot?_

 **Bucky:** _I don’t know. He’s asleep._

 

As if Fate had decided Bucky’s morning was too calm, the other half of the bed began moving. Bucky quickly put his phone down, and braced himself to face the man he may have slept with. Bucky turned to look just in time for Mystery Man’s head to pop up from the bedding. 

Yeah. Ok. He was hot.

“Mornin’.” The sleepy mumble made Bucky smile. For a second he forgot about all the awkwardness and disappointment that usually came the morning after.

“Hey,” Bucky almost whispered back. He glanced around the room, avoiding the beautiful brown eyes gazing at him as he spoke. “Have you… uh… Do you know… where my arm is?”

As predicted, Mystery Man’s eyes flicked down to Bucky’s left side. Bucky braced himself for the stilted conversation that would follow. This guy would politely get him all set up to leave, and avoid any attempt at physical contact until Bucky got the message. That’s what always happened. It’s why Bucky stopped dating.

“Oh, um…” he bit his lip and looked around the room. “I think… sofa?” To Bucky’s shock, the guy smiled at him. “I’ll go find it, be right back.” The quick, barely-there peck on the mouth he received before the very naked, very attractive man dashed from the room made Bucky’s head spin. Ok, so maybe some of that was the hangover.

There were some muffled bumps and swearing before he returned a few moments later, wearing boxers and triumphantly holding Bucky’s prosthetic arm like a prize.

“It ended up behind the sofa,” he explained as he handed it over to Bucky. “You were saying something about it, and then it was just gone, somewhere around the same time as both our shirts and my sweater.” This guy was talking like it was no big deal, and Bucky couldn’t help smiling as he sat on the end of the bed closest to Bucky.

“Thanks,” Bucky mumbled. As well as this was going, he didn’t hold out hope that the next part would be as smooth. “I’m sorry, uh…”

“You need help putting it back on?”

Jesus Christ, was this guy for real?

“Um…” There was no graceful way to do this. Bucky sighed. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Sam,” the guy - Sam - responded in an even tone, but Bucky could see the light dim in his eyes.

“Sam,” Bucky smiled. “Thank you. I, uh… I need to tell you something. I was drinking last night, pretty heavy from what a friend told me, and… The accident that caused,” Bucky indicated vaguely to his left shoulder. “It also caused some brain damage, so, uh… I forget things. When I drink, mostly.”

“So you don’t remember last night?” Sam asked, and Bucky nodded. The look of horror was expected, but what Sam said next wasn’t. “Oh, God. I didn’t… I mean, you were coherent, right? You seemed really on board, but… I didn’t take advantage of you, did I?”

“No!” Bucky rushed to reassure him, manoeuvring himself to the edge of the bed, unconcerned with covering his nudity. “If I was sober enough to work the clasps on my arm, I was definitely fine to consent. I’m just sorry I don’t remember anything. It seems like we had a good time, and you’re being so nice to me.”

“Nice to you?” Sam echoed. It took him a second to understand what Bucky was trying to say, and the look on his face as realisation dawned made Bucky’s chest constrict in a wonderful way. “What kind of jackasses have you been seeing?”

Bucky laughed and shook his head. Sam was still watching him with some kind of affection in his gaze, and Bucky’s face heated in response.

“How about we get dressed,” Bucky ventured. “And I’ll take you out for brunch. You can tell me all about last night.”

Sam’s smile was beautiful, and Bucky forgot the throb in his head for a moment.

“I’d love that.”

“I just need to…” Bucky picked up his phone and pointed it towards Sam. “Do you mind? For my friend; she was worried about me.”

Sam laughed and edged closer to Bucky to that he could take a selfie and send it to Nat. Sam’s hand was resting against Bucky’s hip as they took the picture, and Bucky thanked whatever deity was listening that they’d found each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Twitter @HellWrites if you want


End file.
